


Thief

by anoinee



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoinee/pseuds/anoinee
Summary: Claire's hungry, but the fridge's empty. She accused Chris for eating everything, but Chris is, more or less, prioritizing sleep more than anything at the moment. One thing's for certain though: they're pretty sure they restocked it yesterday, so what gives?





	Thief

You know, the first thing you usually expect the first thing in the morning is the ungodly sun waiting for you to open your eyes so it can burn the living shit out of your irises. But no, that isn't the case of Chris Redfield. His case just so happens to include-

"Chris!" His banshee-of-a-sister screeches right beside him, ruthlessly sliding his pillow away from his head. Chris groans (whether it's from Claire's voice or the absence of his pillow, he can't really say for sure) under his breath as he reaches out an arm to retrieve what is rightfully his. "Chris, you gotta-"

"I hear you loud and clear, Claire!" grumbles the other, obviously displeased by the shrieks coming from his sister. "And keep your voice down! It's too early!"

"Not my problem, bro," bickers the younger of the two. While Chris fumbles around the bed to presumably find a better sleeping position, Claire resists the urge to roll her eyes at her brother's insistence in sleeping and decides to sit on his legs. As expected, Chris protests at the weight and endeavours pushing the girl off.

"Claire, get off-"

Oh, she's not going down without a fight. "Not until you decide to hear me out and get your ass off the bed!"

"Alright, listen here," Chris retorts. "One: I'm already listening, aren't I? Two: I can't 'get my ass off my bed' when you're sitting on my legs!"

"Shush, bro," Claire dismisses with a wave of her hand, "I need your full attention if you want me to get off. And this is important anyway; I really _really_ need you to listen!"

Chris is tempted to say that a portion of his attention is on the weight on his legs, but he holds his tongue nonetheless. Instead, he grumbles, "What the hell could be so important early in the morning?" A pause. "If this is a date again, Claire, then you, out of all people, should know that-"

"Oh, no, no, no," Claire continuously repeats, waving her hands frantically to hush her stubborn ass of a brother. "If this _is_ about a date, I would've asked someone else for advice and maybe not tell you about it-" 

"Not tell me about it?" Chris repeats, exasperated. 

Claire cuts him off anyway. "But you get the point! Anyway, back to the topic." 

Chris closes his eyes, shielding them from the light, and begins to rub his throbbing temple with a hand to mitigate a dull headache forming. Damn, he just wants some rest. Is that too hard to ask for? "What do you want?" 

"Did you eat everything we bought yesterday?" 

Chris ceases his motions as his eyes fly open. "What?" 

Claire furrows her brows, "I asked if you decided it was funny to eat all the food and leave me to starve by myself." 

" _What?_ Confusion settles on the older one. " No, I didn't!" 

"If you're so sure about that, then why don't you say that to our fridge?" 

"Claire, I swear to you I haven't been getting anything from that fridge since last night!" 

"Then why's the fridge empty?!" 

Chris sighs, then he wonders what exactly did he do to deserve this kind of morning? Tiredly, he pushes her out of the bed, to which she thankfully she allowed but with a price of a glare, and sluggishly stands from his bed. Normally he's a morning person, but there's a difference between that and having someone screaming bloody murder right of the bat. "Fine, I'll check the fridge. If this is just some sort of prank to get me out of bed-" 

Claire, crossing her arms, interrupts, "If it's a prank to begin with." 

"then you're going to make up for it." Chris ends before walking past his sister to reach his destination: the kitchen. He doesn't have to turn around to know if Claire's following him or not.

There's absolutely nothing unusual with his kitchen. Without wasting any of his precious time, Chris swings open the fridge lethargically and sees emptiness, just as Claire claims.

The fuck? He's pretty sure he wasted a good portion of his money buying shit for the family.

"See?" Claire's substantiates, clearly aggravated by the disappearance of her food. "Do you believe me now?"

Chris could only pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. God, it's too early to be playing crime scene investigators. "Okay, look, I'll-"

"What's with all the screaming?" A new voice interrupts, resonating behind them. There, standing with a vexed expression etched on his face, is Piers Nivans clearly disheveled and slightly dwarfed by Chris' old clothing. Finally, someone whom Chris can rely on to prove that he really isn't the glutton in this house.

"Morning to you, too." Good thing Chris isn't the only one having trouble keeping up with Claire's energy.

"Hey, Piers!" Claire swiftly greets. "Any chance you spot Chris rummaging for food last night?"

"For the last time, Claire! I did not-"

Piers yawns, rubbing the tiredness in his eyes with one fist. He does perk up though when Claire begins to accuse her brother of theft. "No..." Hazel eyes glances over Chris, a hint of playfulness present underneath the sleepiness. "What gives?"

Chris groans. But before he can offer his rebuttal, Claire answers with much celerity. "Everything my gorilla-of-a-brother and I bought yesterday is gone."

"Gorilla?" Piers parrots, pouting and crossing his arms in consideration. At this point, Chris has closed the door and began to check the cabinets just to find any food spared from this not-so-supernatural disappearance. "I'm not sure about that one. He looks more like a bear to me."

So much for having a back-up from his partner.

"Gorilla, bear, they're both hairy," Claire concludes, "End of argument."

Where the hell did this conversation go?

"Alright, alright," Chris successfully waves them off as if he's calming children rather than his sister and his partner. "Back to the topic. We can eat somewhere else and think about this when we get back. Sounds good?"

"I don't see why not," Piers concurs.

"Sounds good enough for me," Claire shrugs and quickly adds, "Just make sure we're eating something edible."

With that being said, the redheaded sister leaves the room, satisfied with the decision Chris made. The silence that later ensues is rejuvenating at best for Chris.

"You didn't sleep well, did you?" Inquires the former sniper, who has silently shortened the distance between him and the captain.

A deep rumble escapes from Chris' lips as he feigns his curiosity while carefully wrapping his bulky arms around the lithe frame. Their eyes meet, and for the first time in this day did the captain's tiredness ebb away. "What gave it away?"

It's pretty obvious that Chris hasn't gotten himself a good night sleep; Claire can take the blame for that one since she decided it will be fun to shop at a 24/7 grocery store late night.

"Your grumpiness," Piers murmurs, brushing his lips against chapped ones before leaning in for a kiss, in which the other happily obliges to. It isn't passionate or anything; it's just right. Pulling away, he resumes. "You would've kid around with Claire more if you weren't this tired." 

"Fair point," Chris replies as he gingerly caresses the scars littered all over on the right side of his partner's pretty face. Back then, he would've flinched or shied away; now though, he's just leaning in to the touch and staring at him with those captivating, half-lidded eyes. Thank God Piers is recovering fairly, even if it did take a long while for the ace to be comfortable in his own skin again. 

Chris likes everything this way: the silence, the presence of his sister no matter how unruly she is, the homely feel that can only be found n tranquility, and the way it just feels right to have Piers in his arms again despite the incident back in Lanshiang.

Chris is happy; he really is. It's good to feel this emotion again. He needs it time and time again, to remind him that whenever he is about to come home, someone is waiting for him. It's nice to experience an featherweight feeling presumed to be long dead.

But despite how sublime the whole thing sounds, there's one nuisance that's been bothering him, something which ruins the perfection an ideal ambiance such as this one can provide.

"Why does your breath smell like Lay's?"

"Shit-"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be asleep, but I made this instead.
> 
> I'm sorry if they're OOC-ish by the way-


End file.
